


a matter of science

by ohlawsons



Series: the deòir twins [1]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: M/M, Pillars Prompts Weekly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: “Might I ask what, exactly, the two of you are doing out here?” Aloth asked, making a point to ignore the way his voice was pitched noticeably higher than usual.“Nothing!” Kana insisted, at the same time that Owain said, “Science.”Or; Aloth's grimoire goes missing, Owain doesn't understand magic, and skeletons are harmed in the making of this fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for @pillarspromptsweekly on tumblr!
> 
> i have zero understanding of how magic works in the pillars verse so naturally i wrote a fic all about it

He hadn’t _misplaced_ it, he knew that much.

Wherever Aloth’s grimoire was, it wasn’t there by happenstance or as a result of his own forgetfulness. True, there were some who treated the tomes as if they were nothing more than bindings and pages, tools that were easy to dispose of and quick to replace, but Aloth preferred to think of his as an extension of his own magical abilities -- uniquely his, painstakingly expanded and changed throughout the years.

He also made a point not to misplace his own belongings.

So, clearly, Aloth’s grimoire wasn’t _lost_ , but he had a good idea of where it was. _Tomorrow_ , he thought, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Tomorrow they would be heading back to Stalwart, and there would be enough to keep them occupied without any of their little party having to resort to absconding with his belongings. If he were lucky, their trip would even exclude the likely culprit -- Anwyn.

(Iselmyr surfaced from the corner of his subconscious, prodding him with little more than taunts and lewd comments. Aloth ignored them, dismissing her with all the success of a mental wave of the hand; he didn’t know what it was about the Watcher’s sister that had Iselmyr so enraptured -- and suddenly he _did_ know, and the barrage of thoughts left him far more enlightened to her sexual proclivities than he really needed to be.

He didn’t bother to hide his disgust, and she followed up with a terribly impolite -- albeit _astute_ \-- comment on his own attraction to the Watcher. He could feel her words on the tip of his tongue, threatening to voice themselves, and the effort to keep them down was enough that he stopped midway down the Brighthollow staircase, steadying himself against the wall.

Iselmyr relented, leaving Aloth with the remnants of her glee.)

The rest of the walk out to the Caed Nua training grounds was relatively uneventful, and if Aloth were the praying sort he would’ve sent up a few words of thanks; as he’d suspected, Anwyn sat at the edge of the training grounds, past the row of straw-filled dummies. Morwenna, the large white lioness that traveled with her, was sprawled out against the stone wall, and Anwyn laid next to her, legs crossed at the ankle and her head resting on Morwenna’s stomach.

She was a truly frightening woman, and Aloth wasn’t sure he’d ever understand her.

As Aloth approached, Anwyn slowly lifted her gaze to look at him. “You’re in my way, Corfiser.”

“I’m--” He glanced back behind him, only to find -- _Ah_ , of course  -- Pallegina, sparring with one of the hired mercenaries. “I’ll only be a moment,” he assured her, pausing as he considered how to best approach the subject of his missing grimoire. “It’s a matter of some of my belongings possibly having, ah, fallen into the wrong hands.”

“You saying I stole something of yours, _Corfiser_?” One stark white eyebrow slowly lifted upwards; Anwyn’s tone remained as even as ever, with the exception of the way she managed to turn his name into both a warning and a challenge.

“Of course not,” he backtracked automatically, brushing off the statement with a nervous laugh. “I’m merely stating that some of my things have gone missing, and you _are_ the one most inclined towards thievery.”

One hand reached up to absentmindedly scratch at one of Morwenna’s ears. “Am I.” With her other hand, Anwyn reached up and made a shooing motion towards Aloth. “You’re still in my way. If you’re so convinced someone took your stuff, why don’t you go ask my brother? He’s just as -- how’d you put it? -- _inclined towards thievery_ , and if not you know he’ll help you look if you ask.”

Grimacing, Aloth stepped to the side so she once again had a view of Pallegina; watching her spar had certainly put Anwyn in a good mood -- Aloth wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her string that many words together at once. “I… will go ask him, then. Would you happen to know where he is?”

“Out.” She pointed towards the western barbican, far across the other side of the grounds. “With Kana.”

“Ah. Okay.” With Anwyn’s attention turned back to the paladin, Aloth assumed he wouldn’t be getting any more information from her. He began to make his way across Caed Nua, and just as Anwyn had said, Aloth found Owain just beyond the western barbican. The cipher was sitting on a worn tree stump, one hand outstretched and gesturing idly towards a pair of skeletons that shambled along in the clearing before him. Kana stood beside him, arms crossed as he surveyed the skeletons that, Aloth assumed, he’d summoned.

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Owain sighed, too focused on the skeletons to notice Aloth as he joined them. His outstretched hand flicked sharply to the side, fingertips alight with his strange magic, and the skeletons began to shuffle away.

Kana, even more intent than Owain, gave a low _hmm_ in thought. “Perhaps something simpler?”

“It doesn’t get any simpler. I’ve asked.” Without warning, Owain dropped his hand and reached for his pistol, firing it off with a loud _crack_ that made Aloth cringe instinctively and duck backwards. The shot tore through the first skeleton and impacted into the second -- now conveniently standing directly behind the first -- and before he could reload, Kana gave a slow shake of his head and muttered a few words beneath his breath. With an unsettling clack, both skeletons clattered unceremoniously to the ground.

“Might I ask what, exactly, the two of you are doing out here?” Aloth asked, making a point to ignore the way his voice was pitched noticeably higher than usual.

“Nothing!” Kana insisted, at the same time that Owain said, “Science.”

“I see.”

With a contemplative frown, Owain reached over and held up familiar tome, one that sent a flash of both relief and suspicion through Aloth. “It doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, surrendering the grimoire. Turning to Aloth, he corrected, “I don’t _understand_ it. A cipher’s magic is borne of the soul, but a wizard’s magic is _intrinsic_ \-- one would assume that, with the proper calculations and formulae, anyone should be able to cast simple spells.”

It didn’t surprise him that Owain’s response to being perplexed by Aloth’s magical skill was to try and replicate it himself; he could sympathize with Owain’s need for answers, even if the reckless approaches he took were beyond his comprehension. Aloth tucked his grimoire under his arm, glad to have it back safely where it belonged, and gave his head a little shake. “I wouldn’t attempt to set someone’s soul aflame without years of study,” he pointed out, trying not to sound _too_ much like an admonishing tutor, “so why would you assume you could cast spells without similar study?”

“I _told_ you,” Kana interjected, delighted, “there’s more to the grimoires than just the incantations. I could teach you any of the ballads I know, but memorizing the words doesn’t do any good unless you can grasp the meaning beneath them.”

Owain grinned. “Aha, so you’re saying I _could_ , though. And what about you, Aloth? What could you teach me?” The question itself was perfectly innocent, but the way Owain shifted his entire focus to Aloth -- his voice dropping, too low to merely be coincidence, and the soft blue of his lips curling upwards, in a way that it drew Aloth’s gaze and his eyes lingered longer than necessary -- was enough that he was certain he’d gone pink all the way up to the tips of his ears.

(He could feel Iselmyr’s amusement, and was relatively well prepared for the crude explanations she offered on the Watcher’s intent towards him.

She had a retort prepared, one meant for Owain, that -- if he understood the Hylspeak correctly, which, by this point he was fairly certain he _did_ \-- was a clearly defined suggestion on the ways he would prefer those lessons prepared. Iselmyr was… not _entirely_ wrong on his feelings towards the Watcher, but such an uncouth declaration was highly uncalled for and in his attempt to keep her at bay, Aloth ground his teeth together until his ears were ringing.)

“Years of study,” Aloth repeated, not missing the way Owain’s demeanor had shifted with his hesitance; he was analyzing him, now, and Aloth shifted uncomfortably under the pale elf’s gaze. “Though I’ve no doubt you could grasp simple spells in time, it’s hardly something you could learn in an afternoon.”

It was Owain’s turn to remain silent, and after a moment he simply nodded and sighed as he stood. “Very well. I suppose we do have time, don’t we? Come on, Kana, let’s go get lunch. I’m famished.” The aumaua gave a hearty agreement and began to head back towards the keep, but Owain lingered behind for a moment. “I suppose I should apologize for taking your grimoire.”

“I-- Well…” Aloth cleared his throat, caught off-guard by the sudden sincerity in Owain’s voice. “Thank you. It’s… I would rather not lose it. If you have questions,” Aloth added, after a moment of quiet consideration, “perhaps I could help. You need only ask.”

“Of course.” The teasing edge returned. “I’ll have to make time to take you up on that offer.” He paused expectantly, as if waiting for some reaction, but relented with a nod after only a moment and began the trek back to the  keep.

(Iselmyr didn’t try to speak, this time, but muscled her way back into the forefront of Aloth’s consciousness and let her exasperation fill his mind.

_Fye, yer worse at this ‘n I thought_.)


	2. Chapter 2

It was three days later, huddled in a temporary shelter as they waited out a blizzard on the way to Stalwart, that Owain next brought up the grimoire incident.

Aloth would’ve been content to sit alone by the fire and attempt -- rather unsuccessfully, he was discovering -- to keep warm. He was close enough that the occasional odd spark would pop and jump out towards him, and the proximity was beginning to make his face burn as if he’d been out in the sun for too long, but it still wasn’t quite enough to keep him from shivering.

Anwyn, nestled between Pallegina and Morwenna, seemed cozy enough, and Hiravias had long since fallen asleep on the other side of the fire, though his good ear still twitched whenever the conversation grew too loud. Sagani had been keeping watch at the mouth of the cave they were huddled in, and seemed almost at home in the freezing weather. Aloth had assumed that Owain would be similarly unbothered by the weather, but the pale elf had been restless all evening, alternating between pacing near the entrance and meticulously inspecting his pistol near the fire.

(Iselmyr stayed quiet, for the most part, and had been for the entirety of their trek through White March. She wasn’t fond of the cold or of the long, slow trek, it seemed.

However, Aloth could sense her energy bubbling up again as they rested in the cave, her mocking glee palpable as their eyes traced Owain’s measured paces.)

After another round of pacing, the Watcher sat next to Aloth, plopping down with a sort of uncharacteristic gracelessness that was unnatural, almost a sort of forced nonchalance. He crossed his legs, sitting close enough to brush against Aloth, and cleared his throat. “It looks like we’ll be here a while,” he observed, tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather when there _wasn’t_ a blizzard raging outside.

“Indeed.” Perhaps it was no longer just the fire that left his cheeks warm.

“Do you remember--” Owain stopped himself suddenly, pausing to let out a quiet chuckle beneath his breath. “Of course you would, it was only a few days ago. When I borrowed your grimoire.”

Aloth frowned. “Yes,” he affirmed slowly. “I also happen to recall that it was without permission.”

“And it was returned unharmed. What I wanted to ask about, though, was your offer.”

“My offer?”

Owain shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin -- almost sheepish -- smile. “About showing me some of your spells, perhaps. I don’t expect to learn anything extensive before this storm lets up, but I’d like to get a better idea of how you… of the way that…” He trailed off in frustration, any of his earlier chagrin disappearing as he let out a huff of a sigh. “Hylea’s tits, I don’t understand how your magic works and it’s driving me insane.”

(The laughter that escaped was most certainly Iselmyr’s.)

“No, certainly, I could try to show you,” Aloth insisted, stumbling over words that came out too shrill and too quick as he attempted to recover from Iselmyr’s unexpected outburst; Owain _knew_ about her, of course, but he hardly had the full story and Aloth wasn’t eager to share it, especially not now, not in a crowded cave filled with the rest of their traveling companions. “Was there something specific you wanted to know?”

He hesitated, brow furrowing in thought. “The incantations themselves baffle me. There’s a complexity to them that seems… unreasonable.” He held a hand out, motioning for the grimoire.

Without relinquishing his grip on the tome, Aloth pulled his grimoire into his lap, opening it and letting it rest on his knee so Owain could see. He flipped through the thick pages, turning almost automatically to a simple spell, one he’d long since memorized. “This one is child’s play,” he informed Owain, smoothing down the page. With a few muttered words and a lazy gesture of his hand, a small flicker of arcane light began to dance and weave through his outstretched fingers; when properly used, the spell was disorienting to the point of blindness, but such a diminished casting would barely light up a room.

Owain nodded slowly, tearing his gaze from Aloth to inspect the incantation; calloused aqua fingers traced the page, following along the complex formula as his lips silently formed the words. “But I don’t… This doesn’t…” Scowling, he pulled the grimoire over into his own lap, hunching over it and glaring intently at the spell. “Something has to be missing from this.”

Giving his most valiant attempt, Aloth managed to squash the near-thoughtless reaction to tighten his grip on his grimoire; instead he folded his hands in his lap, lacing his fingers together. He suspected that Owain’s confusion came from their differing approaches to magic, but the nature of a cipher was so unsettling that Aloth hadn’t decided if he was comfortable enough to address the subject.

So he didn’t approach the matter, not just yet, and allowed himself to be content to sit beside Owain and listen to his muttered arguments with both himself and the grimoire. He was acutely aware of their shared proximity, and it became increasingly difficult to refrain from reaching over and taking one of Owain’s hands, if only to still his fingers as they fluttered erratically over the pages of the tome.

It was a good half hour later before Owain finally gave up on deciphering the spell, cursing wizards and spellbooks and soul-magics under his breath with a ferocity that made Iselmyr beam with amusement. Aloth simply held back any comments he would’ve made, reaching over to take his grimoire back; it came as no surprise when the cipher protested, now near-frantically turning through the pages in a search for something Aloth was certain he wouldn’t find.

“Owain,” he admonished gently, steeling himself and reaching for the Watcher’s hand; Aloth _was_ caught by surprise, this time, when Owain relented, letting his shoulders sag as his hands stilled. “Not everything has to be a puzzle for you to solve.”

“But it _does_ , doesn’t it?” he asked, letting his fingers intertwine with Aloth’s as he stared down at their hands. “The Legacy, the Forge, Thaos -- they’re all just _puzzles_ , problems that should have a solution. And if I can’t solve the simple problems…” He trailed off, tugging his hand free and silently handing the grimoire back.

“The simple problems?” Aloth echoed, suppressing the urge to reach for Owain again; it had been foolish to do so in the first place, hadn't it, and for all the flirtation and teasing the Watcher did, Aloth was certain it was just that -- teasing. So he pushed those thoughts from his mind and made an attempt at something lighthearted. “Which of our problems have been _simple_?”

The remark came out more bitterly than he'd intended, but Owain laughed regardless. “True. Maybe that’s where I went wrong, is treating _this_ \--” he nodded towards the grimoire, “--like one of my projects back home. I used to do this for a living, you know -- discern the nature of magic and souls through the resolute approach of the sciences. Some might consider it animancy, here, though the lack of morals certainly sets them apart.”

“You’ve mentioned it, yes. I believe you described it as ‘researching things that have been found but not understood,’ or something to that effect.”

“Quite a line, isn’t it?” he sighed, his voice taking on an almost wistful tone. “I once used it to get funding from a group of rather wealthy patrons. If only a similar approach could work against Thaos.”

Aloth offered a small smile. “If only.”

Owain took a deep breath, his demeanor shifting suddenly as he made a show of inspecting the cave they were in. “Well,” he said brightly, “I don’t think we’ll be leaving _here_ anytime soon -- l think I’ll get a bit of sleep while I can. Most of our supplies are still soaked, but I _did_ steal a dry blanket from my sister and it’s plenty big for two, if you’d like to share.”

( _Aye, ye would._ )

“No, but thank you,” Aloth declined politely, caught more off-guard by Owain’s offer than Iselmyr’s enthusiasm. He ducked his head a bit, ignoring the warmth on his cheeks. “I appreciate the offer, all the same.”

With a shrug, Owain stood and retrieved something from near where Morwenna, Anwyn, and Pallegina were all huddled under a single blanket. He tossed it towards Aloth, and the spare blanket landed with a soft _thump_ beside him. “You take it then,” he suggested, and perhaps Aloth was imagining it but he could almost hear disappointment in Owain’s voice. “I’ll be fine with just the fire.”

As much as he wanted to wrap up in the blanket right then, Aloth hesitated. “Are you certain?" When Owain nodded, Aloth very nearly repeated the offer to share -- it would be ridiculous, now, after already turning it down, but he didn’t want to leave Owain with only the fire to keep him warm and besides, it _was_ a rather attractive offer -- but settled for curling up on the ground with the blanket.

Sleep evaded him, between the cold and the discomfort, and Aloth was well aware when Owain pulled the grimoire from his belongings. He still wasn’t certain what, exactly, the cipher thought he would find amongst the spells and incantations, but the drive for understanding was endearing and after another half hour he finally fell asleep, comforted by the crackling of the fire and Owain’s quiet voice as he read through the spells that Aloth knew so well.

 


End file.
